Thanksgiving came. Once again the Henshaw
brothers invited Billy and Aunt Hannah to spend
the day with them. This time, however, there
was to be an additional guest present in the person
of Marie Hawthorn.

And what a day it was, for everything and
everybody concerned! First the Strata itself: from
Dong Ling's kitchen in the basement to Cyril's
domain on the top floor, the house was as spick-
and-span as Pete's eager old hands could make
it. In the drawing-room and in Bertram's den
and studio, great clusters of pink roses perfumed
the air, and brightened the sombre richness of
the old-time furnishings. Before the open fire
in the den a sleek gray cat--adorned with a huge
ribbon bow the exact shade of the roses (Bertram
had seen to that!)--winked and blinked sleepy
yellow eyes. In Bertram's studio the latest ``Face
of a Girl'' had made way for a group of canvases
and plaques, every one of which showed Billy
Neilson in one pose or another. Up-stairs, where
William's chaos of treasures filled shelves and
cabinets, the place of honor was given to a small
black velvet square on which rested a pair of
quaint Battersea enamel mirror knobs. In Cyril's
rooms--usually so austerely bare--a handsome
Oriental rug and several curtain-draped chairs
hinted at purchases made at the instigation of
a taste other than his own.